Everything Is Not What It Seems
by Rule1thedoctorlies
Summary: Sometimes things are not what they seem. You can think one thing about something or someone and then you find out you were completely wrong and everything that you thought you knew is suddenly gone and nothing makes sense. John Watson is the perfect example of all of this. He knows how to play the game and he most definitely knows how to not get caught.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

Sometimes things are not what they seem. You can think one thing about something or someone and then you find out you were completely wrong and everything that you thought you knew is suddenly gone and nothing makes sense. John Watson is the perfect example of all of this. He knows how to play the game and he most definitely knows how to not get caught. Suppose that's what makes him the best there is. John Watson isn't a good man... in fact he's the furthest you can be from a good man. John Watson is the best assassin in the United Kingdom and frankly if you were to ask John he would say the best in the world.

~O~

John sat on his couch in one, of the many, living rooms he had. He wore his Westwood suit, like he always did, and was sifting through some papers. John lived in a mansion with more rooms than he knew what to do with, but he supposed it was all okay because all of his staff and servants lived with him. He couldn't trust them to be anywhere than at the mansion. He never even let them leave unless he trusted them... John didn't trust anyone... He didn't even know anyone's name. There were a couple of people he thought he knew the names of, but it didn't ever matter because no one dared to argue with John. He was a dangerous man and they never talked back to him because bad things happened when they weren't willing to listen.

John was a brilliant man. He was smarter than anyone he had ever had the pleasure of meeting and sometimes he would follow Sherlock Holmes in the paper and would just laugh. Everyone thought that Sherlock was brilliant, a prodigy, but John was so much smarter than him! However, he knew his job and he knew his place... unlike Sherlock he couldn't flaunt his abilities, but he loved his job more than life so he supposed he was okay with it.

John leaned against the couch and pulled out a paper from the stack of jobs people had sent him and looked over it. He groaned, rolled his eyes, and threw it behind him.

"Problem, sir?" a man by the name of Blake said. He had just walked into the room to tidy it up when he heard his boss' anger.

John craned his head a bit and smirked, "just people are idiots... come over here, Brad. Let me show you something."

Blake walked over to John quickly and sat next to him on the couch, "Yes, sir?"

John sighed and made his voice all high, trying to impersonate a woman's voice, "Dear Mr. Watson I would like you to get rid of the neighbour's dog because it barks at night and I think one more night of this and I might go mental." He shoved the paper in Blake's face and then made his voice go back to normal. "Firstly I'm not a bloody dog catcher and secondly look at the price."

Blake scanned his eyes for the reward the woman was giving and cringed a bit. "Fifty pounds..." He read out loud. John never took anything lower than two hundred and even then it was pushing it. It wasn't that John was greedy or anything... He just liked power and he loved it when people gave him things for the jobs he did.

John started laughing hysterically and snatched the paper out of his hands before tearing it into pieces "A fucking joke! That's what that is! I'm tempted to go over and kill her for fucking messing with me!" He growled a bit.

Blake nodded slowly and bit his lip. John scared him a lot actually and he was only here because John had something on him... John had something on everyone here and that was why they were working for him... well he had something on everyone, but Mike. Mike just worked for John and no one knew why... Blake had a theory that John actually knew everyone's name, but only called everyone by the wrong name because he knew it got under some peoples skin. However, Blake didn't mind one bit.

John sighed and scrubbed his face. "Am I an intimidating person? I would like to think so, but yet I get job after job asking me to do something stupid for little amount! And don't get me wrong Bill... I don't need the money... I really don't! I have more money than I know what to do with, but it's the principle! If I let one person slide then my name will start to go down and people will start talking saying I'm a pushover, BUT APPARENTLY PEOPLE DON'T TAKE ME SERIOUSLY ANYWAY!" He screamed.

Blake flinched a bit and swallowed, "I take you seriously... always..." This talk was getting a little bit boring. He had this talk at least once a day! It wasn't always with Blake, but he did talk about his 'reputation' with at least one staff member a day.

John looked at him and narrowed his eyes, "Yes... I suppose you do." He hummed and then smirked and grabbed Blake's wrist.

Blake frowned a bit, but didn't say anything. He watched as John slowly guided his hand towards him and then John gently set the palm of his hand down on his groin. John groaned softly and let his head fall back against the back of the couch. He let go of Blake's wrist and then rested both hands behind his head.

Blake swallowed thickly, but didn't take his hand away. "Sir..?" That escalated rather quickly and Blake didn't like where this was heading at all. There were rumours that John raped some of the servants, but even though John killed people for a living he couldn't see John raping anyone... he had a theory that John got raped as a child or something and would never stoop that low... Sure he would make people give him random hand jobs or blow jobs, but he didn't think that he actually fucked anyone unless they wanted it. He knew that any sort of sexual activity without consent was considered rape... so he supposed in a way John did rape people, but he could never see John holding someone down and fucking them senseless while they screamed and until he came. He didn't know why, but he just didn't think that he was that type of person... it was silly to think that really.

John rolled his eyes a bit. "I thought it was rather obvious... Don't make me spell it out for you."

Blake nodded slowly and swallowed thickly. He slowly moved his hand up and down and dammit this was so awkward! He wasn't even gay and he had never done this in his whole life... He didn't even know what John wanted! He slowly undid John's trousers after a while and stifled a sigh. This is what John Watson did... he used and abused people to a certain extent... The worst part was if Blake had chosen to decline this little excursion he would probably get his hand chopped off by one angry John Watson... Everyone tried their best to avoid an angry John Watson because that was probably one of the scariest things Blake has ever seen

In a way John was like a little kid who has been spoiled their whole life... he always got what he wanted, no matter what that was, and if he didn't there would be hell to pay. Another thing about John is that he was broken... Blake meant that in the kindest way possible, but really there was no kind way of putting that. John Watson was broken because instead of picking people off by a sniper he went into their houses or lured them into an alleyway and tortured them... It wasn't like John couldn't pick them off with a gun because he could. John was probably the best shot out there and was even better with a sniper. It was just that he physically enjoyed hearing people scream and watching them bleed. It would have made Blake sick, but he learned to get over it a long time ago. Without thinking he dipped his head down and took John in his mouth. He was completely lost in thought and that's what made this bearable. You learned to develop a technique when working with John because he made you do a lot of things you didn't want to do... Things went by a lot quicker and smoother when you got lost in thought and just sucked it up.

John blinked a bit in surprise... in all honesty he was just expecting a hand job, but this was so much better. He groaned and tangled his fingers into Blake's hair and thrusted. After about six minutes of pure bliss he came into Blake's mouth and lay limp.

Blake about gagged and pulled off, but nonetheless swallowed. That had to be the nastiest thing he had ever tasted in his whole entire life and he now had a higher respect for women who swallowed. Of course he never got any action anymore because he could never leave, but his respect still stayed.

John smirked at him, "remind me to double your salary, Burt." He hummed.

Blake bit his lip, "but umm... Sir, we don't get paid..."

John smirked more and his eyes crinkled, "exactly!"

Blake forced a laugh and smiled at his boss. "Good one, Sir!"

"I know I'm fucking hilarious! Now go pick some cotton or something useful." He hummed as he stuffed himself back into his trousers and stood up.

Blake nodded and scurried out of the room. God he was glad that was over. One of these days he hoped John got caught because he was absolutely sick of living as a slave.

~O~

John kicked his feet up on the coffee table and flicked on the telly to see if anything good was on. Most of the time when he didn't have a job to do he was so, so bored. Well, okay, he had a lot of jobs, but he didn't want to take anyone of them because they were shit. Honestly the number of dumb arses that contacted him was really starting to be infuriating. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad if he actually had something he wanted to do, but he was starting to get that familiar itch in the pit of his stomach and he didn't have a good job to ease it! He smirked as he watched the news because they were currently discussing a murder victim that he had killed. Every single one of his victims went into a cold case file somewhere in New Scotland Yard and that was brilliant to him. They eventually just gave up trying to find the killer because the trail always went cold! Not even Sherlock Holmes could solve it and he actually thought that that was laughable.

He sometimes left clues here or there, but even then Sherlock could never solve it. He felt a sense of pride in the matter because everyone considered Sherlock the most brilliant mind of this generation, but nothing he did could ever solve one of John's killings.

John yawned and started to doze off when all of a sudden his phone started ringing. He woke up immediately and answered it. "John Watson."

"John Watson. This is Sebastian Moran." The voice growled. "I have a job for you and you will accept it do you understand?" He snapped.

John giggled a bit and rolled his eyes, "aww Sebby! It's good to see you too! How's your lover James?" He hummed. The three of them had been friends ever since John was little... They were his only friends really and they would all torture bugs at recess... They grew apart once John told them that he didn't want to work with them, but John had been teasing Sebastian about his feelings for Jim ever since they were fourteen. It was so obvious a blind man could see it, but Seb always denied it. He could see the way Jim looked at Sebastian too, but he didn't know if they actually did anything about it or just pretended like they didn't have feelings for each other. Still, it was fun to tease his old friend.

"He's dead." Sebastian said, deadpanned.

John swallowed hard and his face hardened, "what." It wasn't a question it was a statement. John didn't like Jim... He didn't like Jim at all... in fact he hated the little worm! He always tried to outsmart him and to be the best at everything! He tried to steal all of John's boyfriends and beat him at the science fair and even steal some of his clients. He hated Jim more than he hated anyone in his whole entire life, but Sebby had been a good friend to him and his heart broke for the man. Well, as much as it can when you don't actually have a heart.

"It was Sherlock! Sherlock Holmes! He shot James and he claimed it was a suicide! I know for a fact that he wouldn't kill himself! He wouldn't do it no matter what it meant! I believe that Sherlock killed him and then framed it on James as a suicide! So now you are going to kill Sherlock."

John smiled brightly. This job was amazing! One thing about John was that he didn't kill random people no matter how bored he was and that was one thing that bugged him about Jim Moriarty was that he killed people just for the hell of it! John knew what he did was wrong, but at least he had a motive, a reason behind everything! He had wanted to get his hands on Sherlock for a while now, but no one had asked him to... no one until now that is. "I'll do it. How much are you going to give me?"

"Eight million pounds because I don't want you to just hurt him physically, John. I want you to go in there and break his heart into a million pieces! Make him feel what I'm feeling now and you'll do that by becoming his flatmate. I heard he's looking for one because the one he has now is about to move out. Also the one servant that you have that you actually let leave your mansion knows him. They work together... Mike Stanford... Once you've done that I want you to torture him for months before you finally allow that scumbag to die. Personally if you could torture him for years that would be brilliant too. Keep him alive as long as you can! But John... l make sure he falls in love with you before you torture him!"

John let a soft smirk play on his face, "I've been told by many people that Sherlock Holmes doesn't have a heart."

"Everyone has a heart, John. It's just a matter of finding it." Sebastian growled and then hung up. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Ever since John got the call from Sebastian he had immediately started planning... he hadn't been this excited for a job in- well ever actually. If he was going to do this job at all he was going to fling himself into this one hundred and ten percent. He also had to trick Sherlock and whereas he was smarter than the man it could become a bit challenging. Sherlock was brilliant, there was no denying that... and John thought that if he wasn't such a 'bad guy' they could have been best friends.

Perhaps in another life or in another universe they were... Sherlock didn't know who John was, but John knew who Sherlock was and he was a bit obsessed in all honesty. He followed Sherlock as much as he could, he read his blog, watched the news, kept up on his cases, and stalked him on the interweb. John didn't know why he did that, but it was like he couldn't stop. He was drawn to Sherlock like a magnet and that was a bit weird to him. However, he had wanted to kill Sherlock more than anything because the thought of bringing down a brilliant mind to a helpless, dependent person who couldn't think for themselves anymore without looking to someone for approval sent a thrill though his body. He would take Sherlock's heart and he would get to hold it in his hands, something he was pretty sure no one ever had the opportunity of doing... and if they had, the number of people Sherlock gave his heart to was very seldom. He would keep it close and hold it protectively before smashing it to bits! Then he would take Sherlock's brain, he would caress and love it and worship it before taking it apart bit by bit. John knew his brain was messed up... maybe it was all the neglecting as a child. He slowly sat on the couch and his mind wandered.

_John ran into the car and got buckled in his car seat all by himself! He was only three and none of his friends could do that! He asked them... although he didn't really have friends because people tended to avoid him, but he had squirrely (his stuffed grey squirrel) and he had his mummy and daddy. He sat happily in his car seat and looked out the window, waiting for his parents to get in the car. His mummy and daddy had packed a lot of his clothes and he was currently holding squirrely to his chest, he most definitely wouldn't let squirrely go into the suitcase!_

_John smiled brightly as his mother and father climbed into the driver and passenger seat. He couldn't wait until he was a big boy so that he could sit up there! Most boys his age just played with silly little toys and didn't care about anything, but John was different... he was always thinking about things way advanced for his age and he knew that when he grew up he wanted to help people! He told his parents this on a regular basis and they would tell him it was a wonderful idea... He loved his parents more than anything and even though they were hardly around and gave him funny looks sometimes John didn't see anything wrong because he was only three after all._

_The car jerked forward and his dad pulled away from the curb. John was thrumming with excitement as he held squirrely because his parents didn't tell him where they were going... he tried to deduce it, but they seemed really adamant on keeping it a secret. John gave them props because most of the time he could deduce anything! However, he couldn't deduce it this time so he decided that it must be a super fun holiday! Maybe they were finally taking him to the science museum! He had been dying to go there for months now. _

"_Mummy! Mummy! Are we going to the museum! Why won't you tell me where we are going and why do I have my suitcase?" he hummed and played with squirrely's tail._

_He was in the back so he didn't see his mother swallow and look out the window. His father answered for his mummy, "it's a surprise, John! Now behave and maybe we'll take you to the art museum next week."_

"_Science!" John corrected happily and he shut his mouth and didn't say another word. His father always said that if he was good and stayed silent they might go and even though it never happened John always, always minded because there was a small chance that they could go and all he wanted in his three year old self was to go to the science museum!_

_John's mother shot his father a look and John frowned. They must be fighting... she always gave him that look and his father would roll his eyes so John took that gesture to mean that they were fighting... John was really brilliant for his age! He was as smart as an eleven year old and he was only three! He personally thought that he was smarter, but no one would believe him. However, even though he was brilliant he struggled reading emotions... he thought his parents loved him more than anything and would do anything for him... because John would have done anything for them in the whole entire world! But as they pulled up to a tall building that looked like it has been around since the dinosaurs he was quickly about to realise that he could have never been more wrong. _

_John frowned as he stared up at the building and then as his mummy and daddy got out of the car. Surely they were just making a pit stop so he stayed in his car seat and waited for them to get back into the car. His father got into the back seat and grabbed his suitcase and John furrowed his brow more. "Oh... are we getting out of the car?" He smiled some._

"_Yes." His father said firmly and slammed the door shut. _

_John was confused, but unbuckled himself and grabbed squirrely as he pushed the door opened. The three of them walked inside and John frowned as he looked around. They were at an orphanage and John didn't understand... he tugged on his mothers skirt and looked up at her, "mummy... I know you can't have kids anymore are we going to adopt a brother or sister for me to play with so I'm not lonely?"_

_His mother swallowed, but didn't answer his question. John huffed and held squirrely tighter to his small chest. He wandered off and sat on a bench nearby, he was close enough to see his parents and the woman who they were talking to, but he was far enough away that he couldn't hear what they were saying. He sighed and looked at squirrely, "why are we here? I wanted to go to the museum! Or an amusement park, but I'm not tall enough for any of the rides, but the baby ones." He huffed a bit and his squirrel just looked at him. _

'_You are a baby.' The squirrel said back to him. Obviously the squirrel wasn't talking, but John had an active imagination and made up the words for him._

"_I'm three! That isn't a baby because I'm smarterer than everyone!" he hummed and stuck out his chest._

_The squirrel was about to reply to him when a lady came up to him, "hello, dear. I'm Mrs. Turner..." She smiled some and was holding his suitcase in her hands. _

_Panic filled the small boy and his eyes darted around the room. He shouldn't have wandered off! He knew the rules! "Where's my mummy and daddy!" He gasped and stood up abruptly. He had a lot of panic attacks and he couldn't see his mummy! She calmed him, but she wasn't anywhere to be seen! He ran to the front door and started tugging on it. "No! They must have forgotten! Help me before they leave forever Mrs. Turner! Hurry!"_

_Mrs. Turner's heart hurt for the boy, but she put on a brave face and walked over to the young child. She knelt down so that she was level with him and took his hand into hers. "John... sometimes things don't really make sense..." she watched as the boys lip started to quiver and she swallowed. "Your parents are in a position where they can't support you right now and just want what's best for you... you'll stay here for a while just until they can get back on their feet..." Mrs. Turner knew that that was a lie... they said that they were struggling with money, but she could see that they weren't. For whatever reason they just didn't want this boy and dropped him off... this was for the best however because it was better to have a life growing up loved than to feel neglected and unwanted._

_John was so, so confused because he knew that they weren't struggling for money... he looked up at the lady with sad eyes, "but... but daddy and mummy have a lot of money... I know they do!"_

"_Sometimes parents are really good at hiding things from children... they just didn't want you to worry." She said softly._

"_NO! I know we have money!" he growled and held squirrely tighter. He wanted to cry, but he also didn't want to cry in front of Mrs. Turner. "I'm really smart for my age! Don't give me the baby talk! I'm not a baby!" he snapped and stomped his foot on the ground. He was silent for a very long time and then he swallowed hard, "they're not coming back are they...?" he whispered so quietly._

_Mrs. Turner's heart broke even more and she shook her head slowly, "I don't think so, no..." she brought him into a tight hug._

_He didn't know what to do! He had nowhere to go so he couldn't pull away and run... he just had to accept the hug, something he never ever received... his mind was spinning because his parents left him and they didn't even say goodbye! All those years of being 'busy' they weren't busy they just didn't want him! Why didn't they want him! He had done everything to please them and he loved them unconditionally! He thought that they loved him too and they would do anything for him, but now here he was at an orphanage because his parents didn't want him! _

_He started sobbing in Mrs. Turner's arms and clinging to squirrely. He didn't understand! He didn't understand anything and for the first time in his life he felt so alone... he didn't like that feeling at all and it hurt so badly. _

_Mrs. Turner swallowed and picked him up, "Hey... why don't we go meet the other children, yeah? And then I can show you to your room..." _

_John nodded slowly and wrapped his small arms around her neck. _

_John met a couple of children, but he wasn't willing to talk. Mrs. Turner recognised this and sighed he would come out when he was ready, but he just experienced something traumatic. She slowly walked up to his new room and set John down on the bed. "I know it may be a bit scary and sad now, but I promise that this place is really nice once you get used to it." she knew that that was the worst advice ever... this young boy just got kicked out of his home! Of course it wasn't going to get better, but she vowed to always be there for him just like she was with the other children. She sighed, stood up a little bit, and ruffled his hair. "John meet your new roommates James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran." She smiled._

_John looked them over and pouted more. They were only infants and couldn't even talk! That would mean they would cry in the middle of the night and he would have to deal with that. He grumbled and curled up into a ball and tried to sleep._

John clenched his gun tightly at the memory. He was visibly shaking and he shouldn't have let his mind wander. He'd been doing that a lot recently and he hated it.

"John..." a voice said a bit nervously.

John was snapped out of his thoughts and looked at the figure that entered the room. He was about to tell him off for not calling him 'sir', but he realised that it was Mike. He relaxed some, but still had a tight hold and his gun because was angry and hurt about the memory he relived. "Ah, Mike!" he stood up and then threw the gun at Mike.

Mike blinked rapidly, "umm why have you thrown this at me...?" He frowned as he watched John shred off his Westwood jacket, take off his button down shirt, and then walked over to the tile. He didn't understand why John was getting half naked, but Mike didn't understand a lot of things John did so he never questioned anything.

John smirked and looked at him, "alright... now shoot me! Left shoulder!" he hummed.

Mike blinked some more and shifted, "umm, sir... I don't know if this is a test or something, but I really don't feel comfortable shooting you..." he swallowed. He honestly hated telling John 'no', but he really didn't want to shoot John.

John growled, "It isn't a test! I want you to shoot me!" he snapped.

Mike swallowed hard and aimed the gun, "what happens if I miss..."

John pursed his lips, "well then, I'll die a rich, successful man." He rolled his eyes. "Come on! Get on with it!" He was angry and he knew that this was something he needed to do... it was better to do it now when he was angry, than to do it when he was not. Mike just stood there are John growled more, "GET ON WITH IT!" He screamed and then the sound of a gunshot filled the air. John stumbled back on the impact and frowned a bit. He looked down at his shoulder and blinked as he watched the blood pour out of his body. Strange... it didn't hurt at- "MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD YOU SHOT ME IN THE FUCKING SHOULDER!" ah, there it was. He screamed out in pain as he collapsed to the ground.

Mike panicked and ran to him quickly, "I'm sorry! You told me to! I- This is my fault... tell me what you need."

John growled a bit and then groaned. He flew his hand up to his shoulder and clenched it tightly to apply pressure. "Oh you know... a cuppa would be fantastic!" He groaned and when Mike stood up to leave, probably to go get the tea, he groaned more and rolled his eyes. "NOT REALLY!"

Mike swallowed and knelt back down, "right... sorry, sir." He chewed on his lip and just sort of stared at the whimpering John. He didn't know what he wanted... "We umm... we need to get the bullet out..."

"WHAT FUCKING BULLET! IT WENT STRAIGHT THROUGH YOU PILLOCK!" John screamed in pain and whimpered.

Mike looked at the wall and sure enough the bullet was in there. He swallowed hard and tried to think of what else to do but he honestly had no idea and there was so much blood!

John gasped a bit and his eyes felt heavy, "If you don't do something quickly I'm going to die and then I most certainly haunt you for all eternity for killing me." He snapped and then closed his eyes. Oh yes, sleep felt very good at the moment.

Mike flailed, stood up abruptly, and ran out of the room. Luckily they had a doctor and nurse on the staff and he would go get them for John... he didn't like the idea of leaving John alone, but he had no other choice.

He grabbed the nurse and doctor and by the time they got back to John he had passed out. Truthfully it was probably better that way... a quiet John was always a better John.

~O~

John woke up a day later in his bed. His bed was giant and made of the softest sheets he ever had the pleasure to touch. John loved his bed more than anything and it was actually the only reason he ever actually slept. He groaned a bit, slowly opened his eyes, and saw Mike sitting in one of his chairs in the corner of the room.

Mike heard movement and he looked up immediately, "oh my god! You're awake!" he stood up and wandered over to the bed.

"And you seem to have stayed with me... you really didn't need to." He frowned some and pursed his lips.

"John, I was the one that shot you! Of course I needed to stay!" He sighed and sat at the edge of the bed.

"You know if you start calling me by my real name on a regular basis people might talk." He smirked a bit.

"I bet you would like that, wouldn't you?" Mike smirked as well.

John sighed heavily and shook his head; "you know I can't feel things..." he swallowed hard and looked away.

Mike swallowed and looked down at his feet, "No, suppose you can't... or maybe you just haven't opened yourself to the right person."

John narrowed his eyes and glared at Mike, "right! And who the fuck is going to love me for me? I would have to hide who I really am my whole entire life and I'm sorry, but I would never stoop so low as to lie to my own partner. They should know everything about me and I should know everything about them."

Mike shook his head, "I'm not saying you have to find someone... especially if you don't want to, but I'm saying don't tell yourself you can't feel things because I know you can... and I know you care for your staff... you're good to them, mostly."

John scoffed, "they all hate me if you haven't noticed."

"That's because they don't know how much you give them... you put up a front when they are around you and most of them are terrified... in fact I don't think you open up to anyone besides me and I think you're really going to struggle when you go live with Sherlock because you can't hide yourself and you know that... you also hate when people don't call you 'sir' and you blow a gasket. I've seen it more times than I would like to admit. You hate being wrong, but you're going to have to be wrong a lot when you're with him... and John I really don't think living with him is going to be a good idea... he's going to pick you apart and you'll have to stand there and take it... not only that, but you'll have to tell him that what he did was amazing and brilliant and extraordinary." He sighed, "I think you should rethink this..."

John growled at him because he knew all of that stuff already and he also knew he was going to be fine! Sherlock wouldn't pick apart _his_ life he would pick apart the life he was going to make up for himself so it wouldn't hurt... "I'll be fine!" He snapped.

Mike sighed and shook his head, "right... because you're always fine, yeah?" he bit his lip when John just glared daggers at him. "Just do me a favour..." He took a deep breath, "don't... don't get invested..."

John's eyes widened and then he snarled a bit, "are you suggesting that I'll actually fall for this bloke?" he snapped.

Mike pursed his lips, "I'm just saying don't let that happen."

John pushed Mike off the bed, but instantly regretted it when pain shot through his shoulder. "Get. Out! I would never in a million years fall for Sherlock Holmes!" He snapped.

Mike swallowed, "John, all I'm—"

"GET OUT!" He screamed.

Mike nodded and snapped his mouth shut. He swallowed hard and quickly left the room.

~O~

One month later John was ready for action. He smirked at Mike and put on his blue and white chequered button down shirt with his coat, some jeans, and his brown shoes. He grabbed his cane and barely touched his hair. Just brushed it to the side a bit, which killed John because he was used to wearing it slicked back. He turned around and smiled at Mike as he leaned heavily on his cane, "well... how do I look?"

Mike smiled brightly, "practically unrecognisable..." He hummed. "It's rather amazing actually... so you ready to go?"

John nodded and smiled. He picked up his cane because there was no use pretending to hobble now... They climbed into Mike's car and Mike drove them to the hospital. They both climbed out and Mike brought John to the Lab and put his hand on the door. "Ready?" he whispered quickly.

John gave a slight jerk of his head as a nod and then they pushed inside.


	3. Chapter 3

**OH HEY IT'S ME AGAIN! **

**what do you care? You don't you're just here for the story.**

**usually I have loads to talk about, but I'm tired and listening to a johnlock playlist and I'm going to go cry...**

**ok bbbbyyyyyyyeee!**

Chapter Three

John put on a face as him and Mike walked into the room. He looked around and smirked a bit, "Well, bit different from my day." He muttered under his breath.

Thankfully, Mike joined in and chuckled a bit, "You've no idea."

John's brain was just spinning because Sherlock was standing right in front of him, in the flesh! It was ridiculous yet brilliant at the same time.

"Mike, can I borrow your phone?" Sherlock said without looking up.

Mike glanced at John who shook his head once. He looked back at Sherlock and shook his head, "Sorry, mate. I left it in my office..."

John pulled his fake one out and bounced it in his hands a bit, "You can use mine if you need..." John watched in amazement as Sherlock blinked in utter shock. He could tell that Sherlock was confused, but he shook it off and stood up.

"Oh, well thank you..." He walked over and snatched the phone before smirking a bit as he typed away, "Afghanistan or Iraq?" He hummed without looking up.

John had to force everything in his power to not grin like a madman. This was actually working! He wanted to grin... He wanted to grin so bad because he knew it was amazing to be experiencing this, but instead he frowned a bit and furrowed his brow. "Sorry..?"

Sherlock sighed impatiently and John could tell he was just resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Which is it? Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"Afghanistan... And how did you know that?" He smirked even though he most definitely knew and he would get to hear the deduction process in action. He was thrumming in anticipation, but just as Sherlock opened his mouth to speak Molly walked in. John wanted to growl, but instead he just clenched his hand against his cane a bit tighter.

Sherlock raised an eyebrow at that, but waved it off and handed John's phone back. He was probably angry with Sherlock's forwardness or he was just in pain, "Ah, Molly, coffee. Thank you." He smiled some as he grabbed the coffee and turned around. He took a sip and grimaced because Molly's coffee making skills were horrid, but he needed the caffeine. He had been up for three straight days and he was hoping he would be able to go to sleep tonight. He was so close to solving his current case. He went back to his microscope and then peered into the top, "How do you feel about the violin?"

John blinked a bit and frowned, was he talking to him? That was certainly not what he was expecting to come out of Sherlock's mouth, "I'm sorry, what?"

Sherlock didn't look up when he answered John, "I play the violin when I'm thinking. Sometimes I don't talk for days..." He paused and hesitated a bit as he looked at John finally, "Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other."

John wanted to grin so badly and yell at the top of his lungs, but he held his ground. Oh yes, Sherlock was definitely brilliant, "And who said anything about being flatmates?" he raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock hummed and stood up, "I did. I was talking to Mike this morning about how my flatmate just left me and how it would most likely take me months to find another one... I can be a rather difficult man to live with, but now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, who clearly just came home from his military services in Afghanistan and needed a flat share... it really wasn't that difficult of a leap."

John sighed, "Yes, and _how _did you know about Afghanistan?" Come on! Come on! Show me how brilliant you are!

Sherlock ignored him though as he wrapped his scarf around his neck, "Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we should be able to afford it."

Ha! I could afford it by myself thank you very much.

"We'll meet there tomorrow evening; seven o'clock. Sorry, I've got to dash... I think I may have left my riding crop in the mortuary..." He frowned a bit and headed for the door.

"Is that it then?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Is what it then?" He frowned and stopped.

"We don't know a thing about each other; I don't know where we are meeting; I don't even know your name." He grumbled and narrowed his eyes a bit. Deduce me, you twat!

Sherlock paused and narrowed his eyes a bit and then stepped closer with his head cocked to the side. "I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. I know you've got a brother who's worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him – possibly because he's an alcoholic; more likely because he recently walked out on his wife. And I know that your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic – quite correctly, I'm afraid."

John's breath caught in his throat and he swallowed as he shifted on his cane. He looked away for a second, all for the act of course, but on the inside he was screaming because Sherlock had picked up every single thing that john had fed him and that was such an amazing thing to witness.

"That's enough to be going on, don't you think?" He hummed and walked to the door where he opened it and started walking out. He stopped and poked his head back in where he smirked at john, "The names Sherlock Holmes and the address is 221B Baker Street." He clicked his mouth and winked at John before nodding, "Afternoon!" and with that he left.

John waited for a full minute before he looked at Mike and broke out into a wide grin, "Did you fucking see that? That was amazing!" He snickered and spun his cane around a bit. "I cannot wait for tomorrow! Ready to go home?" he hummed.

Mike took a sharp breath and nodded, "Yep." John might not be able to see what was about to happen, but Mike could and it about broke his heart. He had never seen John so happy before and Sherlock was the cause of that… he shook his head and walked out with John.

~O~

John stood outside the door of 221B Baker Street and waited for Sherlock. He was actually a bit worried he wasn't going to show up and then what the hell would John do? But before he could doubt it anymore Sherlock climbed out of the cab and John grinned.

"Afternoon, Mr. Holmes," John smiled happily as Sherlock took off his glove and then reached forward to shake John's hand.

"Oh, please." He smiled brightly as his hand slid into John's, "Call me Sherlock and its rather night than afternoon, isn't it?" he hummed and smirked as he pulled away and went to go knock on the door.

John stood there happily and looked at Sherlock. God, he was something else, "So... How did you find this place?" He wanted to talk to him, get to know his weaknesses.

"The Landlady owes me a favour... back in Florida about eight years ago I helped her out with her husband's execution." He hummed.

John wanted to roll his eyes because of course a goody two shoes like Sherlock would help someone out who was supposed to be on death row, "So you stopped the execution?" He asked a bit with his eyes wide.

Sherlock got in evil little glint in his eye and John wondered if this man had a small dark side, "Oh no, John... I ensured it." He hummed.

John about choked on air, but managed to keep a calm face. Thankfully, the attention was diverted off of him because the door had opened up and an older woman was standing there squealing and hugging Sherlock. He had not been expecting Sherlock to say that and the fact that Sherlock did was incredibly surprising. He imagined Sherlock to be someone who would cry themselves to sleep at night if someone died and he couldn't 'save' them. He acted like he didn't give a shit on the telly, sure, but John thought that that was just an act... Maybe he didn't know everything he thought he did about this man after all.

Sherlock spoke with the lady for a while and then they were being ushered inside. Apparently her name was Mrs. Hudson and she seemed rather nice. He was glad he didn't have to kill her because he hated killing old people... He would do it when he had to, but he hated it and there was no satisfaction in it. John Watson was a man of torture. He loved the feeling of blood rushing over his hands and getting all over his body, in his hair, on his suits, the smell of metallic, the taste of copper when it splattered onto his lips. He loved hearing the screams and begs and he loved playing god. He got to choose whether they lived or died and he always chose the latter. _Always. _But he would never do that to the elderly... It hurt too much and he was pretty sure he had Mrs. Turner to thank for that. He did kill them because money was money and he wasn't going to be labelled as some weakling because he didn't off an elder, but he wouldn't torture them. Always clean and fast and quick so that they never felt a thing.

John knew he was messed up and he knew he had a problem. It kept him awake most nights in all honesty because the smell and taste of blood should not be something that he got off on, but he did. It wasn't something anyone, but mental people got off on and that made him feel broken. Growing up was hard because he felt so lost with the things he felt and the things he wanted to do, but he couldn't help feel this way. It was like an itch and it wouldn't go away unless he gave into it, so he compromised... He only tortured and killed people that other people wanted dead, granted it wasn't a good compromise, but it was a compromise nonetheless.

They walked inside and John wrinkled his nose, "Bit messy..." John was used to his place being spotless. He hated messes and he was glad his character was from the army because that could explain his slight OCD for messes...

Sherlock swallowed and started picking up piles of papers and just putting them in another spot that didn't help the cleanliness factor at all. "Yes, well, I can- umm- clean it up a bit." He nodded and smiled at John.

John couldn't help but smile a bit because the fact that Sherlock was trying to make a friend was really endearing to him... of course he would regret that decision in the end, but John would let him have his moment. He limped over to the mantel and peered at all of the random objects. He smirked when he saw a real human skull because he had a human skull in his bedroom. It was from his first killing and though he probably shouldn't have taken it he did.

"Oh! That's a friend!" Sherlock grinned brightly and then winced because John would now think he was mental! "Well... I say friend." He gave a slight smile and swallowed... it didn't exactly clear the awkwardness, but it was better than Sherlock stating that that was basically his only friend.

John smirked a bit when Sherlock wasn't looking, he walked over to the red chair, and sat down. He took everything in around the flat and even though it was small it could be very nice. He might get anxiety with the mess, but he could clean it. The thought almost killed him because he hadn't had to pick up a mess in years... ever since his parents dropped him off at the orphanage Mrs. Turner always did it and then he had servants and maids for the messes he made now... Although, if it was any consolation, John didn't make messes because he hated them so much, but he was living a different life for the moment and he supposed he could deal with it for a short period of time.

John slowly stood up and walked about the flat more when Mrs. Hudson appeared, "Well, since there's two of you, there's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing it." She hummed and smirked at Sherlock who flushed.

Ah, so he is gay... or not. It would still need a bit of research because if he wasn't into men this would make his task a lot harder, but so far God seemed to be on his side. John frowned and cocked his head to the side. He furrowed his brows in confusion, "Of course we'll be needing two..."

"Oh! Don't even worry about it! We've got all sorts 'round here and Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones!" She hummed happily.

John froze a bit and he really hoped it didn't show... he didn't really hear anything she said after 'Mrs. Turner', but she seemed to keep talking. He wandered over and sat down again as his brain whirled with thought... surely it couldn't be the same one could it? He was over reacting because there was probably many 'Turners' in the world. He sighed and shook his head to clear his thoughts just as Sherlock was jumping up and down. John blinked rapidly because he was jumping around the room in an excited fashion and John wondered what he could have possibly missed...

John just stared at him blankly and Sherlock sighed, "Four suicides and now a note! Oh, this Is Christmas! Brilliant!" He flailed around and grabbed his coat and scarf.

A silver haired man came into the room and he and Sherlock talked back and forth about some bloke named Anderson, but John wasn't really paying that much attention. Before he knew what was happening the silver man left and Sherlock was running out the door, "Mrs. Hudson I won't be home until later! John don't wait up." He hummed and then was out of the flat.

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "I'll make you tea, dear, but just remember that this is a onetime thing... I'm not your house keeper, but you should rest your leg."

"DAMN MY LEG!" He growled and then blinked. His leg didn't even hurt... he was surprised at how easy it was to fall into character and then stay there. He slowly stood up and then Sherlock rounded on him from absolutely no where. He frowned, "I thought you left..."

"Yes, well, forgot my... gloves." He lied and quickly held up his gloves.

John wanted to smirk because he knew Sherlock was lying, but Army John wouldn't have known so he kept a blank face. "Ah, those are important..."

Sherlock hummed and nodded, "You're a Doctor. In fact you're an Army doctor. Any good?" He pursed his lips and stepped closer.

John imagined that if he had ever actually joined the army he would be very good so he nodded once and straightened his body, "_Very_ good."

Sherlock made a sound in the back of his throat, "So you've seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths."

John swallowed because that part was true... he'd seen tons of violent deaths the only difference was, was that he was the cause of them all, "Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much," However, that statement was false because John definitely didn't think it was far too much... not for him anyway.

Sherlock smirked at him and he wondered just what he had gotten himself into, "Wanna see some more?"

John's heart fluttered and he didn't know why, but he thought that it was because of the fact that Sherlock probably didn't go inviting random strangers to investigate a crime scene with him. "Oh God, yes!" He nodded quickly and then limped after Sherlock. Sherlock hailed them a cab and they both climbed in. It was silent for a while until Sherlock spoke up again. John was so surprised because John felt like Sherlock wasn't one to just randomly start conversations and although he did start it with, "Alright, you've got questions." John felt like in normal circumstances Sherlock wouldn't be one to care if they had questions or not and that made him feel special. He told himself that this was just purely for work, but there was a tug pulling him towards Sherlock and he tried to push that away. He was just fascinated that was all.

Sherlock deduced everything perfectly – well it would have been perfect had it been true, but it was exactly what John wanted him to say so it was perfect. He was amazed and soon they arrived to the abandoned house where a lady and a man tormented Sherlock... John actually felt bad and swallowed because it reminded him of himself when he was in school and at the orphanage, but he pushed the thought down and soon they were inside.

Sherlock deduced everything about the woman currently lying dead on the floor and John pretended to be amazed. Though he was a bit proud that he was able to deduce it a bit faster than Sherlock... well that wasn't really fair now was it? No, it wasn't considering the fact that he was behind this whole scheme. He already knew everything before they even arrived at the place and before the police had come to Sherlock. Before he walked to Baker Street that night and before he even met Sherlock yesterday. He had been planning this ever since Sebastian had called him. So he supposed that in retrospect he didn't actually deduce it before Sherlock because he already knew it.

Of course, this wasn't his normal way to kill people... He wasn't the one doing it, there was no torture, just words and a pill and then they were gone, but they were people that were wanted dead so thankfully he wasn't breaking his rule. He had to sponsor someone and that was rather annoying because yes, he was getting paid, but then he would just have to give the money to the twat that was working for him! Which was stupid because he was just going to die, but he claimed the money was going to his kids so he supposed that that was acceptable.

He was lost in thought and then Sherlock was running out of the door yelling something about pink and John was so lost... He followed Sherlock and peered over the edge as Sherlock was tugging on his hair explaining everything and then John growled a bit under his breath once Sherlock was gone because the fucking cabby made a mistake! He wasn't paying the cabby to sit on his lazy arse and do nothing! He was paying him to make sure nothing was out of place and that Sherlock wouldn't find him, but apparently that was too hard for the poor little man with an aneurism.

He grumbled to himself and hobbled down the stairs because if he didn't hobble someone would see and then his cover would be blown and he was not having that! Although, he really did hate this limp so he was really hoping something exciting and dangerous would happen soon so that he could 'forget' about it.

He walked outside and hobbled down the street because Sherlock, the bastard that he is, left him! He turned the corner and just thought about not limping anymore because he didn't have Sherlock to see him, but thought better of it because someone else could be watching – someone was always watching. He limped down the street when all of a sudden a bag was getting thrown over his head and he was being shoved into the car, "Oi! Watch it! Let go of me!" he growled as the door slammed shut and peeled away.

"Not a chance," a woman's voice smirked, "You have some explaining to do, _Doctor _Watson," she hummed.

**oooooooooo John's in trouble! I have like seven thousand and one fics to write... umm I'm going to go watch Fargo now... Maybe Tinker Taylor Soldier Spies... Or perhaps Hot Fuzz... well fuck.**

**I still havent written the next chapter of Tulips and people who read this in one hundred years will be like 'well it's up now!' and this line will just be pointless...**

**people are going to read my johnlock fics when I'm famous and then I'll be on The Graham Norton Show and he will show this exact line that I'm writing now and I will just cry.**

**I'll probs forget about the notes and he'll just stubble upon this and laugh because I have a giant obsession with him and his show and johnlock...**

**#NeverMissedAnEpisodeOfGraham and if I was ever on that show I could die a happy person.**

**fuck I'm getting carried away... well hope you enjoyed my story! **

**DEUCES!**


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